


three things

by AnnaRose26



Category: Ben Hardy - Fandom, Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: CAN YOU SMELL THE FLUFF, F/M, Friendsgiving, ITS HOLIDAY FIC SEASON, Thanksgiving Fic, ben hardy fanfic, ben hardy oneshot, holiday fic, so much cuteness it'll rot your teeth, the fAKE DATING, this shit is fluffy as fuck, ugh wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaRose26/pseuds/AnnaRose26
Summary: After moving in together, Reader and Ben host their first Friendsgiving together and have to come up with three things they’re grateful for.
Relationships: ben hardy x reader - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	three things

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it today! Here’s a little something for the holiday and I gotta say, I love these two idiots and their dumb relationship more than most things in my life. I hope you all love it!!

"Cranberries?" 

"Regular and the nasty canned shit." 

"Ignoring that hearsay...corn bread?"

Rustling was heard as her eyes scanned the list she held in her hand. Mentally ticking things off when suddenly the corner of a box of cornbread appeared in her peripheries as Ben painstakingly edged it closer into her line of sight. 

"The lady wants cornbread and THEREFORE, cornbread she shall have." 

Fighting a smile, she pursed her lips as Ben proudly withdrew it from her line of sight and placed it back into their grocery cart. 

They had been living together for a few months now and had quickly settled into a routine. Most days she'd kick the door open, heels thumping against the closet floor as she toed them off. The smell of whatever Ben was cooking, wafted down the hall to meet her nose. Flipping through the mail she picked up on her way in, she'd pad down the hallway, humming whatever song she had been listening to in her car before coming inside. 

Popping herself up on the counter she would word vomit about her day as Ben stirred, chopped and let her taste test what he was making. Making encouraging noises and occasionally interjecting at opportune times. ("No, Karen does need to calm down. I mean, it's an Instagram post, it's not the end of the world. I barely use mine and I'm doing just fine." "Yeah, but we're not all hot, blonde Hollywood stars." "You think I'm hot?" "Smoking, just like whatever is cooking in the oven." "SHIT.") 

They'd end the day with whatever show they had been watching together on Netflix (Recently it was Riverdale. She loved it because she read the comics growing up. Ben loved it because it was so over the top. And he had a soft spot for Bughead.), then get ready for bed together and fall asleep in each others arms. 

It was so disgustingly domestic and simple, half the time she found herself looking at Ben and asking him, "Is this it? Like, this is all we do? We hang out?"

Chuckling, he'd pull her closer, "It sure is, love."

She'd sigh contentedly, and nuzzle closer to him, happy with how quickly their lives had merged together. 

Not every day was so peaceful. There was the one time she left their back window open and a bat had flown into the apartment. There was 30 minutes of chaos as Ben bellowed at her for leaving the window open and she locked herself in the bedroom threatening to divorce him if he didn't get rid of the bat NOW despite his protests that they weren't even married. 

Or the day when they had sat down and hashed out which chores they hated (she: cooking, cleaning bathrooms and dusting. Ben: sweeping, doing dishes and taking out the trash. The payoff though was that whenever she took out the trash she'd gleefully tell Ben to step into the trash can as well. Only after he locked her out of their bedroom had she stopped) and would take over to prevent the other from having to do it. 

Some nights she'd be out with friends, or at a late work event or need to run some errands only to come home to Ben air drumming along to a Queen album he had popped on the record player. 

Other days she would be left to her own devices and would wake up in the tub, the bath bomb she had used a distant memory, with Ben standing over her, telling her how she can't fall asleep in the tub while he's gone because what if she _drowns?_

They were most thankful for each other when they had had long, difficult days. Trudging home from a work day full of bullshit meetings, last minute deadlines and unhelpful co-workers, with only one call to Ben to have a brief meltdown, she'd open the door to find him wearing nothing but an apron with her favorite dinner on the table.

(Frozen Chinese food from their local grocery store and "is that...White Claw...in our wine glasses?" "It sure is, love. We're real classy bitches now.") 

When Ben was gone filming for long periods of time, she would FaceTime him as she cooked, or did laundry, or other normal things around the house just so he could feel like he was part of her day to day routine.

(The first time they had done that he'd remarked, "It's like a baby cam."

She scoffed, "Well, yeah. Kind of. I mean, I am baby."

"You're my baby."

"Shut the fuck up Hardy, you can't be that cute when you're that far away from me.") 

When he finally would get home, disentangling himself from the Lyft, body screaming for rest after having been put through the wringer with training and long days and nights of filming, the only thing that'd keep him upright was her. She would barrel out of their apartment to meet him in the landing. He'd barely have time to drop his bags as she flung herself into his arms, peppering each others faces with kisses as he promised over and over again he would take her with him next time he left so they never had to be apart for so long.

They'd even had a couple of parties together. A low-key house-warming when Ben moved in and a Halloween party. She had dressed up as Sabrina from _The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina_ and had talked Ben into being her Harvey. Though he got to wear what he normally did, he complained the whole time. She was sympathetic but right before they opened the door to let their friends in, she had stuck devil horns on his head that he didn't have time to rip off.

(After everyone had left, he had made her wear those as he fucked her senseless. She hated to admit it but it was incredibly hot.) 

The Halloween party was such a hit, their friends had talked them into hosting Friendsgving as well. Hence, the run to the grocery store where she had printed out the Excel spreadsheet clutched in her hand to help keep track of what was needed for each dish. 

Ben had taken one look at the spreadsheet, took her hands in his, and in the most loving way possible, explained that this seemed like a bit much for a party and he was worried that, day of, she'd be so stressed, he'd have to talk her down from stuffing her head in the oven alongside the turkey. 

Now, she felt something move across the nape of her neck, she flinched, looking around only to be met with Ben's wide eyes staring at her, feigning ignorance as he paused mid-inhale, getting ready to blow on her neck a second time. 

The smile he shot her made her knees weak and she rolled her eyes, muttering about what a pain in the ass he was as she pushed the cart farther away from him.

His hands came down beside hers on the rail as his lips pressed into her hair, "Get in"

"What? Get in where?"

"Where do you think? Get in the cart, I'll push you around." 

She scoffed, "Ben, we're _adults._ We're hosting a _dinner party_ we bought the $5 bottles of red wine instead of the $3 ones. There is no way in _hell_ I'm going to let you-"

"C'mon, love. The _old_ you would have done it." 

Before Ben had even said the last word, she was hauling herself up into the cart, pushing food out of the way and tucking her legs underneath herself, mumbling all the while about how unfair it was that that always worked on her. 

Ben chuckled as he waited for her to get settled, once she nodded at him, he started walking down the aisles, leaning his forearms on the rail, giving her an up close view to the sinews and muscles flexing as he meandered down the aisles. 

"You keep staring like that, people are gonna ask you to keep it in your pants." 

"How can I? I mean, Christ Benny, your forearms are enough to make me cum right now."

He made a retching noise, "Please, for the love of _god_ do not cum all over the potatoes. They're right in your lap, we have to _feed_ those to people-" 

A laugh came ringing out of her mouth like a bell, "These mashed potatoes seem extra creamy, whatever did you do to them?" she affected a high pitched voice and waggled her eyebrows. 

"That's it, we're done. I'm leaving you in this cart." He threw up his hands, walking backwards as her eyes grew wide, 

"Ben, please do not leave me here alone in this cart like a big dumb baby. Please. It was a _joke."_

Ben came back with a sigh, "You do look like a baby. Like when you wear your romper to work."

That comment was met with an accusing finger, "HEY. That romper is professional and stylish and also gives a whole new meaning to being naked and afraid in bathrooms." 

"I understand wearing it to work but I just don't get why you would wear that out. Waiting for you to come out of the bathroom at the bar," he sighed, "felt like I was standing there for an hour."

"It was like 10 minutes _tops. G_ row up."

He rolled his eyes and shoved the cart away from him, quickly bringing it right back, causing her to screech and grasp the sides with white knuckles. 

"Jones!"

He chuckled as he swung them around to the next aisle, "I've got you, love. Now, what do we need down this aisle?"

Her head swung side to side as she examined the goods. She pointed to a package of spices, that Ben grabbed and tried to shoot into the cart, missing by a mile. She eventually circled her arms so he could try and shoot every new food item they picked up into the makeshift basket. (She drew the line at the eggs.) As they roamed the aisles, she slowly became more and more buried until food reached up to her shoulders. 

As Ben debated between getting regular sized versus mini marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole, she asked, "What are the three things you're grateful for today?"

They had started this soon after Ben had moved in. He'd wake up in the morning to find her writing in a notebook, after observing her doing this for a couple weeks, he got the courage to ask her what she was writing about. She explained that every day, she wrote down three things she was grateful for. Didn't matter how big or small it was. Just three things that she was grateful to have in her life. 

He teased her mercilessly about how he had better be on that list every damn day but when they were laying in bed that night, she asked him and it became a habit. Crawling into bed together, they would exchange what three things they were most grateful for in that day. 

Furrowing his brow as he shot the mini marshmallows, he threw his hands in the air when he made it in and announced, "I'm grateful I made that shot."

After checking out, in which Ben insisted that she stay in the cart while he did so, causing the cashier to give them strange looks but ultimately giving her a sticker that they usually only reserved for children, which Ben gleefully stuck to her forehead, he rolled her out to her car where she popped the trunk. 

Loading the bags in, Ben clambered in to her front seat, pushing the chair all the way back. 

"It's like living with a midget."

"You are BARELY 5' 10" my man, do not be speaking ill of my height right now." 

Driving back it was quiet except for the soft sounds of Bruce Springsteen playing over the speakers. Reaching over, Ben grabbed the hand that had been resting on her thigh. She glanced over, smiling, as she looked at her boyfriend, felt his thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of her hand.

She whispered, "I'm grateful for us."

~~~

Friendsgiving had been a massive success. Before, the apartment had been a madhouse. The kitchen looked like the end of a _Great British Bake Off_ episode, complete with Ben doing his best Paul Hollywood impression ("You keep that shit up Jones and I _will_ give you food poisoning on purpose.") 

But the food had turned out well (Ben silently gave her a thumbs up when 15 minutes had passed after everyone was done eating and no one had thrown up), everyone left with a plate of leftovers and promises to get together soon and now the apartment felt strangely still. The only hint that it had been filled with people was the pile of dishes in the sink. 

They fell into an easy rhythm, her washing, he drying. The jazz they had queued up for dinner still playing, adding an air of domesticity to the whole affair. The pine candle she had lit after they had eaten, signaling to everyone the holiday season had truly started, sputtered as it gave off its last few whiffs then burnt out. 

As she placed the last plates back into the cabinet, Ben refilled their wine glasses, leaving them on the counter as he disappeared into the bedroom. 

Turning around she was met with Ben in his favorite hoodie, the collar sinking down to reveal his collarbone, meaning he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath it and gray sweatpants, which she cocked an eyebrow at. 

"You told me about the memes, I'm just trying to satisfy all your fantasies." he joked as he held out a second pair of sweatpants to her. She giggled as she shimmed out of her tights right there in the kitchen, pulling the sweatpants on underneath her dress. Ben swatted at her butt as she walked past him to grab a shirt from the bedroom. Once she ambled out, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she was greeted by Ben, laid out on their couch, wine glasses on the table in front of him and the largest rectangular box she had ever seen in her life. 

Ben notoriously had weird taste in art and the skepticism must have shown on her face because Ben rolled his eyes, "It's not art. Don't worry. I learned my lesson when you ripped me a new one telling me that Andy Warhol isn't a _real_ artist."

"Well you only have to make that mistake once with me." she conceded as she crept towards the box. "Is this, for me?"

Ben nodded, shifting, rubbing his hands down his thighs, then through his hair, a classic sign he was nervous. 

Smiling, she knelt down in front of it, running her nails down the edges she ripped the tape off. 

"Ya know, I _have_ a pocket knife. It's easier." 

"Yeah but these bad boys are like built in pocket knives."

"Okay Wolverine."

Flipping him off, she opened the top of the box. Ben watched bemusedly as she struggled to wrestle the object out. Letting her struggle for only a few seconds before he got up and grabbed on to the end of the box she pulled her gift out.

Almost dropping it she gasped, "Ben, what the hell is this? What did you _do?"_ He laughed as he smugly took a sip of wine, "Take off that bubble wrap and find out, love."

Staring at him, she ripped open the bubble wrap. First exposing the dark mahogany frame, then the white border, then... _"_ Oh my god. Ben. Sweetheart. Is this...?"

He just tipped his head, making a _get on with it_ gesture as, hands trembling, she ripped off the rest of the bubble wrap. 

Exposing the puzzle they had done together the day she had asked him to move in with her, matted and framed. 

Bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, she felt how wet her cheeks were. She sank back on her heels, laying the frame down in front of her as she leaned over it. Ben was by her side in a second, arms around her, pressing kisses into her hair. 

She couldn't believe it. Her heart felt like it was going to break from how much love she felt for Ben in that moment, "This is the best piece of art you've ever gotten."

"Nah, I'd say you were the best piece of art I've ever gotten."

"Oh _god."_ She wailed as a fresh wave of tears came flooding out of her, making him laugh as his own eyes got watery, tightening his grip on her. 

Once the tears had stopped, she lifted her head, sniffling to look at the puzzle again. She squinted her eyes, "Ben."

"Yes?"

"Is...is there a _piece_ missing from this?" 

He chuckled as he fished in his pocket for a second box, "There is. But for good reason."

Hands shaking like a leaf, she pried the box open only to reveal the piece of the puzzle she had stepped on the morning after she asked him to move in, winking up at her on a gold chain. She dropped it immediately as she threw herself into Ben's arms, tackling him to the ground. 

For several moments it was just the sound of her crying, him telling her to stop crying because it was making _him_ cry, them kissing each other and exchanging promises of love and exclamations about how amazing the other was. 

After collecting herself and wiping her eyes, she held out her wrist, "Well? Put it on me you idiot."

He laughed, wiping his own eyes with his hoodie sleeve, fingers shaking as he clasped the bracelet onto her wrist. 

They stared down at it until Ben kissed the palm of her hand and brought it up to his face. 

Staring at each other, lost in the other's eyes, Ben said, "You know how at dinner you had everyone say three things they were grateful for?" She nodded, feeling a new batch of tears making their debut, "Obviously I said you but, love, you are always the top three things I'm most grateful for everyday. Every day I look at you and find something else about you that I'm grateful for. And I hope I get to keep doing that for however long you can stand to be around me." She giggled through her tears, nodding vigorously as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. 

She felt him take a steadying breath in as he squeezed her tighter into his embrace, "You're always what I'm most grateful for. And I will never stop being grateful for having you in my life. I love you so much it makes my heart ache sometimes."

Nodding furiously, voice wavery and thick from her tears, she said, "Everyday when I write my list, you always make the number one spot. No matter if you had yelled at me about letting a bat into our apartment the night before," He squeezed her tighter, laughing through his own tears, "This is just about the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, so, yeah, Jones. You made me the happiest girl alive when you agreed to be my boyfriend and every day since then. I look at you every day and wonder how in the world I got so lucky but grateful that you're in my life. You're the love of my life."

Beaming, he pulled back only to place a deep kiss on her lips. Clutching his shoulders, they held each other there for a few long seconds, finally breaking apart to breath each other in.

Breaking the silence, she asked the age old question, "Where are we going to hang this?" 

"I was thinking over our bed." 

"Perfect. Just perfect."

That night, as they fell asleep, they had murmured what three things they were each grateful for. It came as no surprise to either of them that their three things they were most grateful for were each other. 


End file.
